Little Bit of Magic
by ceredonia
Summary: Kenzi decides to mess with a little bit of magic, and suddenly Dyson is interested in her. Not really sure what to make of it, she decides to go along with it, realizing in the process where her heart truly lies.


"Good _god_, there needs to be more for humans to _do_ around here."

Kenzi swung her legs back and forth, lightly knocking the heels of her designer knee-high boots against the bottom rung of the barstool. She'd been sitting at the Dal for nearly fifteen minutes, waiting for someone, _anyone_, to show up like they tended to do—walking in with a well-timed crack about the Morrigan or needing some insight into a crazy case. Yet today, that apparently wasn't happening.

She'd had a brief moment of hope when Bo had stormed through the Dal, but she'd been on her way to some important meeting with someone-or-other; she hadn't really been paying attention, only nodding along like she understood. Dyson had been hot on Bo's literal heels, nearly tripping over her when she skidded to a stop to grab a dagger from the underside of a table—when the hell had she hidden _that_, Kenzi wondered—but they left together, once again leaving Kenzi alone at the counter, nursing a beer she'd snuck when Trick had left her alone to go clean glassware.

It was a quiet Tuesday night; usually there were a few downtrodden fae tucked away in corner booths, drinking quietly while playing on their smartphones, or there was the group of loudmouth dark fae that usually dominated the pool tables in the back corner. But tonight they were nowhere to be seen, and Kenzi was _bored_.

After a few more minutes of kicking the barstool, she hopped off and landed with a quiet _click_ of her boots on the scuffed wooden floor. With a quick glance around the area to make sure Trick wasn't lurking nearby (he was friggin' _sneaky_ for an old man) she quickly and mostly quietly made her way to the small side door that led to Trick's secret basement. She'd been trained enough recently by Dyson to become a pretty decent shadow thief, and had managed to lift one of the keys off Trick's key ring he kept hidden under the bar when he wasn't looking a few days earlier. Gently pulling it out of her signature arm-warmer, she grasped it as she snuck down the stone steps, keeping an ear out for anyone nearby. It was quiet, which was both a good and a bad sign—she knew Trick was _somewhere_, but had he noticed yet that Kenzi had stopped loudly complaining?

Across the short-ceilinged expanse lay her goal and she crept across the carpeted flooring to stand in front of it. A floor-to-ceiling glass cabinet stood before her with only a small lock barring her from experimenting with various potions and trinkets she'd been reading up on in Bo's massive pile of boring, ancient books up in the apartment. The key was inserted and the lock swinging open before she even realized how dangerous it was, but by that point she didn't care; the possibilities were endless, and she didn't have much time.

"Okay, let's see…there was something about a love potion," she murmured quietly, unable to resist talking to herself in the habit she'd developed since hanging around so many people at any given time, trying to vie for attention in the craziness that usually followed their gang of loveable misfits. "I think it was purple? Or blue? Shit, I can't remember—ooh, what's _this_?" she cooed, picking up a tiny vial with a faded label. The script was too worn to read, but the liquid had a faint shimmering rainbow effect to it as she tilted it back and forth in the dim overhead light. As it faded from orange to blood red Kenzi smiled, briefly contemplating whether it could be used as fabric dye for a kickass scarf.

"Kenzi? If you're down here I'm going to cut you off for good, unlimited bar tab deal be damned," Trick's voice called out from the head of the steps. She flinched and quickly tried to shove the vial in her pocket, mentally cursing herself for not wearing jeans with useful pockets. As she listened to Trick approaching, she tucked the small glassware up underneath the back lining of her bandanna, grateful she'd gone for the punk style that day. He appeared a moment later, arms crossed over his chest, glaring up at her. She smiled in return, quirking her head.

"What up, Trickster?"

"You _know_ you're not allowed down here," Trick replied, slightly raising an eyebrow.

"Aw, come on, I'm down here all the time with Bobo or Dyson and you don't raise a stink."

"Yes, because I _trust_ them."

"_Seriously_? You're playing the _trust_ card? _How_ many times have _both_ of us walked in on them goin' at it on your ancient boxes here?" Kenzi complained, gesturing towards the likely-soiled wine crates lining a nearby wall. "Or on the couch, or against _any_ of the walls, or—"

"_Yes_, you paint a vivid picture," Trick interrupted, "but nonetheless, I'd prefer it if you stayed upstairs. What were you doing down here anyway? There's no food or beer down here."

Kenzi crinkled her nose in fake offense and raised her chin defiantly. "I'll have you know I've been doing some research _on my own_, trying to learn about all the baddies and crazies you guys end up fighting. I can help _too_, you know."

"Okay, you're pulling the 'helpless human' act again, time to go." Trick reached out and grabbed her elbow, dragging her towards the stairs. She struggled a little bit for show, careful not to jostle her headband too much as she ducked down to follow him upstairs. When he finally let go of her to go pour himself a drink, she patted the back of her head, checking to make sure the vial hadn't dropped out. One way or the other, she was going to find out later that night if it was worth anything more than being used as dye.

Kenzi slammed another book closed, coughing from a cloud of dust that arose from the spine. "This is _useless_," she whined aloud to the empty apartment. Searching for hours had revealed absolutely nothing on the fancy bottle in her possession. Bo was nowhere to be found, not that she would be able to help, or even keep a secret. The tiny vial shone from her hand as she tilted it back and forth, still worried about opening it without knowing what it was.

* * *

"Anyone home?"

She quickly pocketed the liquid as she stood up from the couch, seeing Dyson standing in the doorway. "Hey, D-man, what's up?"

"Have you seen Hale around?" Dyson asked, crossing the apartment in a few wide strides. His face was set in his familiar 'I'm dealing with too much crazy shit' expression. "I've been trying to track him down all day, but he doesn't seem to want to be reached."

"Can't say I have," Kenzi replied, along with a shrug. An awkward moment passed as she waited for Dyson to say something, anything, but instead he just stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest as he glanced around the apartment. "Can I…_help_ you with something, wolfie?"

"What have I _told_ you about calling me that?"

"You're acting weird, what else am I supposed to do? I ease the tension with jokes, that's my whole schtick," she said as she raised her arms in the air in a quick dance-type motion. Dyson cracked a small smile, but his eyes remained suspicious.

"Something feels off here," he said a moment later, shaking his head. "I just can't place it."

"Uh, someone's been bangin' the succubus a _little_ too much lately," she chided, reaching out to pat him on the elbow. "Clearly Bobo's been drainin' the old noggin—I mean, if you've run out of sex juice or whatever, that sucks, but you shouldn't let her take your smarts, since you don't have a bunch to spare—"

"_Kenz_."

"Again, jokes, that's what I do. Are you here to accuse me of something shady or were you _really_ looking for Hale?"

Dyson smiled at that, a true smile, albeit obviously slightly irritated. "I really was looking for Hale. Guess I'll keep trying him on his cell."

"Sounds good. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some trashy TV shows to binge-watch." She gestured to the television and watched as Dyson continued smiling at her. "You can leave whenever."

"Thanks, Kenzi."

"Anytime."

He nodded at her and hesitated a moment longer, finally turning to leave through the still-open front door. Kenzi flopped back down on the couch and pulled the vial out of her pocket, tilting it back and forth. An idea occurred to her and she jumped back up, rushing over to the kitchen for a hopefully-clean glass sitting out on the counter. She wiggled the short, fat cork out from the neck of the vial and tilted the contents into the glass, watching the shimmery liquid coat the side of the slightly-smudged wineglass. With only a moment's hesitation, she raised the glass to her lips and tilted it back just slightly, allowing a few drops fall onto her lips. Nearly instantly she felt her fingertips begin to tingle with electricity and she drained the rest of the potion down her throat, enjoying the slight buzz vibrating throughout her body.

Before she could inspect herself in a mirror to make sure she wasn't glowing or floating or shapeshifting, a sharp pain in the back of her head quickly forced her to her knees in the kitchen. Kenzi moaned and tried to reach up to a small bottle of water she'd left on the counter the night before, but swiped at empty air as the pain intensified. She quickly gave up the quest for the water and curled up on the floor, gripping her head in her hands as it throbbed with fresh waves of torture.

"Okay, I _probably_ had that coming."

Kenzi stared up at the ceiling, counting the apparently-sorta-rotted beams crisscrossing overhead. They really needed to call a carpenter. And a plumber, since the sink was still messed up. And a cleaning crew—but she was getting off-track. What she _really_ needed at the moment was a friggin' hand up off the floor, since she couldn't move.

It had either been minutes or hours, she couldn't be sure. Her phone was lying uselessly a few feet away, but it hadn't rung since she'd collapsed. Luckily the TV had been left on, so she'd been listening to the Kardashians bitch at each other in what seemed like an endless loop of yelling.

"Kenzi?"

Her eyes widened as she struggled with all her might to move even a finger. "Down here!" she called out, never more grateful than that moment to hear Dyson calling out to her. "In the kitchen!"

"What are you—" He stopped whatever question he'd had when he saw her lying helplessly on the grimy kitchen tiles, and as she glared up at him she noticed the corner of his mouth quirking up into a grin.

"Don't."

"Oh, _this_ has _got_ to have a good story behind it." He folded his arms over his chest and waited for her to huff a few times in annoyance.

"Get me up!"

"Not until I know what happened."

"I _fell_, you dipshit. Help, I've fallen and I can't get up," she quoted in a mock old-woman voice.

"Fell. That's why you can't move."

"That would be the _definition of the situation_, you ass."

"You realize I can tell this isn't a normal situation." She watched as Dyson sniffed the air, his nose crinkled in thought and identification. "What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"Kenzi, it's not worth it to lie right now. It's not as though you have much dignity—"

"Just get me off this floor, you mangy dog!"

"Fine, don't tell me what happened. I'll get it out of you eventually." He reached down and lifted her up as though she weighed nothing, which in comparison to his _very_ defined arms, she pretty much _was_ a feather. "Why hasn't Bo come home yet?"

"I don't know, D-man, I assumed she was off killing something with sharp, pointy fangs. Now imagine I'm doing the hand gesture for that," Kenzi added, rolling her eyes.

"Where do you want me—"

"Couch," she interrupted, but quieted as he carried her to the couch, carefully setting her down on the overstuffed cushions. He reached around and grabbed a pillow from the other end, tucking it behind her so that she was sitting up. "Thanks."

"Yeah, no problem." Dyson sat down on the adjoining cushion and propped his feet up on the rickety table in front of them. "So, are you going to tell me what happened? Or do I get to keep guessing what happened?"

"Nope," Kenzi replied, focusing her energy on the sliver of feeling she was beginning to get back in her left pointer finger. That was probably a good sign.

"Mm, I'm going to guess that you took something from Trick and didn't know what it did, so you messed around until something happened." She raised an eyebrow and heard him chuckle. "You have such a lousy poker face."

"Don't talk to me about poker faces, wolfie, you still owe me a hundred bucks from the _last_ time we played, Dances with Wolves."

"I thought we called that even, considering you spilled vodka all over my carpet," Dyson replied, smiling.

"Oh. Right."

Dyson's phone beeped and he pulled it out of his pocket, swiping a finger across the screen. "Are you good here? I'm needed back at the station," he said, standing up. Kenzi tried to nod, but found that she still couldn't move her head.

"Yeah," she sighed, still trying to wiggle her fingers. "I think I'm getting feeling back in my hands, so I'll probably be fine in a few hours. Should I have Bo call you if she comes home?"

He thought for a moment, and then shook his head. "No, I'll get in touch with her eventually. Are you _sure_ you don't need me to stay?"

Kenzi smiled. "Don't sweat it, D-man."

"Okay, fine. I'll call you in a few hours if I get a break." He leaned down and touched her hand, his fingers lingering over her own for a moment before he tilted his head and kissed her cheek. Kenzi squeaked and Dyson pulled back, looking stunned.

"What was _that_?" she blurted out, feeling her cheeks burning.

"I…I don't know," Dyson stuttered, taking a step back. "I better go." He hurried out of the apartment, leaving Kenzi on the couch, unable to properly react.

* * *

"I don't get paid enough for this," Trick said, sliding another beer across the counter. Kenzi grabbed it and frowned.

"Hey, the least you can do is listen to my troubles, _barkeep_," she replied.

"Don't call me that. And I don't believe you anyway."

"Pft, whatever. I'll go find someone _else_ to _bother_ then." She picked up the beer and stalked off to sulk in a corner booth, ignoring the strange look Trick was giving her as she settled in against the intricately-carved wood. She poked at the side of the glass, watching the liquid swish around inside.

Why wouldn't _anyone_ believe that Dyson kissed her? Well, kissed her on the _cheek_, but still. Bo had just laughed and said that she had been watching too much TV lately, and Trick wouldn't even listen to her. She'd tried texting Hale, but for some reason he wasn't responding. Things had been rocky between them lately anyway, but she thought they were in an okay place the past few months. Maybe she'd been wrong. Either way, it'd been a couple days and she'd done her best to avoid Dyson, which hadn't been easy, but she'd managed.

"Hey."

Kenzi glanced up to see Dyson standing next to the booth, hands in his jacket pockets. "Hey," she replied. "Beer?"

"Thanks." He sat down across from her and reached over the table to take her glass. Their fingers brushed momentarily and she instinctively pulled back, trying to ignore the subtle clench that appeared in Dyson's jawline. He lifted the glass to his lips and drained half of it, setting it back down a moment later. "Can we talk?"

"About?"

"Kenzi."

"Oh, about _me_? Always happy to talk about me. Do you like what I did with my hair today?" She knew she was babbling, but the vibe at the table had changed and she was extremely uncomfortable with how Dyson was looking at her. The furrowed brow, intense gaze, those beautiful green eyes—she blinked a couple of times to clear her head.

"Yes, it's nice. Can you be serious please?"

"I'm _always_ serious."

"Let's take a walk."

"Yeah, no thanks. That's what mobsters say to people right before they shoot them. I ain't falling for _that_." Kenzi glanced down at the table for a moment, trying to get her mind straight, and when she looked up again she saw Dyson smiling at her. "What?"

"Nothing. This isn't going as I thought it would, that's all."

"Well, if you thought I'd actually want to _talk_, then I guess you wouldn't really know me."

"True."

"Fine, we can go on a walk. Even though that sounds _totally_ ridiculous," Kenzi muttered, sliding out of the booth. She headed for the door and could sense Dyson following her. Trick nodded at them as they passed by.

Once they were outside, Dyson reached out and caught her hand, pulling her back to stand with her back against his chest. The sounds of the Dal were still echoing through the windows as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Her hands fluttered up to cover his, and she took a deep breath, letting his familiar scent envelop her.

"What—"

"No, let me talk," Dyson interrupted, and she fell silent, unspoken dissents on her lips. "I've been thinking about you nonstop for the past two days, and I don't know why. I mean, I think about you most of the time, but as a friend, not as…_Kenzi_."

"Dyson—"

He moved his head to rest his cheek against hers, and his rough stubble startled her at first, but she leaned into it after a second. "I don't know why I'm suddenly feeling like this, and I don't know if you feel the same way, but I want…" He trailed off and the comforting feel of his cheek against hers disappeared as he stepped back, letting go of her.

She turned around to face him, seeing a pained look in his eyes, hands at his sides. "Want what?" she asked quietly, barely able to hear her own voice.

Dyson stared at her for a moment longer before reaching out, his left hand cupping her cheek as his right came to rest on her waist, pulling her close. She opened her mouth to say something but he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers with enough passion that she took a step backwards, moving a hand to rest on his forearm, squeezing lightly. Her other hand fell to his waist, grabbing a handful of his shirt as she kissed back, relishing the way his fingers began to stroke her cheek.

Kenzi pulled away reluctantly, staring up into his eyes, listening to the blood pumping in her ears, her heart racing. "Dyson, why—"

"I don't care why," he replied quietly, running his hand along her jawline. "Let's just go with it."

"Yeah, okay," she murmured, raising herself on her toes to kiss him again. Her hand slid up his back to grip a handful of his hair as her lips caressed his. She let out a quiet moan and felt his hands tighten, pressed against her cheeks more forcefully, urgently.

"Can we go somewhere else?" she murmured against her lips, relishing the way his chest rumbled as he chuckled.

"I know _just_ the place," he replied in a low voice, his voice slightly rough with a growl.

They barely made it inside Dyson's apartment before Kenzi was tearing his shirt open, kissing a trail down his skin, digging her fingers into his muscled chest. His hands quickly found her shoulders and pushed her back, enough that he could tilt his head down and cover her mouth with his own, moaning as she nipped at his lower lip.

"_Bed_," she growled, and he complied by scooping her tiny frame into his arms, hands planted firmly on her ass, carrying her across the small apartment with her legs wrapped around his waist, her skirt riding up her thighs. She could feel intense heat rippling just underneath the surface of his skin as she pawed at his back, knowing he was using most of his ability to focus to keep the wolf at bay.

"Why can't I get enough of you?" Dyson said breathlessly, nipping at her lower lip. She let out a sigh as she tightened her grip against his back.

"I don't know, but there's plenty of me to get," Kenzi sighed as he kissed his way down her jawline.

"I never felt like this before," he whispered between feather-light kisses, and she felt him smile as she moaned quietly. "Like…this is what was _right_ this whole time, and I never realized it."

"Stop talking, you're ruining the moment," she replied, her body tensing as he tightened his grip on her waist.

"Ach, lass, _so_ sorry," Dyson purred in his Scottish brogue, and her whole body shivered as he let go of her to drop her onto his bed. She bounced on the mattress a little and he knelt down, one knee between her legs, leaning over her so that his hands were on the sheets, trapping her underneath him. "Won't happen again, I promise ya."

Kenzi opened her mouth to reply but the ring of his phone interrupted her thoughts. His brow furrowed and he sat up, reaching into his back pocket to retrieve the ringing device. With a short huff he held it up to his ear.

"What? … Yeah, it's fine, I'm just—never mind, what do you need?" He looked down at her with raised eyebrows and she giggled, reaching down to run her fingers along her tights, flicking up the edges of her skirt. He rolled his eyes back in his head and she snickered, watching as his other hand fluttered down to lightly massage her inner thigh. "And you can't do this without me? … No, that wasn't—yes, I'll be right there. Yes, sir." He hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed with a sigh.

"What's wrong?" Kenzi asked, her back arching slightly as his fingers brushed against the seam of her underwear.

"Gotta go meet the boss, something about wrong paperwork or something. I wasn't really paying attention," he replied, toying with the cloth for a moment. Finally he pulled his hand away and she huffed, prompting a smirk to appear on his face. He leaned back down over her and reached up to pull her head closer, kissing her cheek. "I'll be back before you know it, lass," he whispered in her ear, lightly biting her earlobe. "Do you want to wait here for me?"

"Who knows how long you'll be," she pouted, shaking her head. "I'll just go home and see if Bo's around to hang out. Or maybe I'll just get started by myself?..."

"Oh, don't be doing anything without me," Dyson growled, pulling her close to kiss her, sliding his tongue between her lips. She pushed back and slipped her hands into his waistband.

"But I'm _bored_…"

"Patience, Kenz," he said with a smile, standing up, allowing her hands to withdraw from inside his jeans. "I'll call you when I'm done."

"_Fine_." She rolled onto her stomach, making sure to push her ass in the air, sliding backwards off the bed only after she heard Dyson make a frustrated noise. "I'll be waiting."

"You'd better be." He grabbed her as she stood up and pulled her close, her back against his chest. She tilted her head back and he kissed the top of her head. "Be safe getting home, all right?"

"Always, wolf-man," she replied, laughing as he reluctantly let go of her. He grabbed his jacket from a chair near the door and slammed the door shut behind him, leaving her to stand in the middle of the apartment, her skirt askew, catching her breath.

* * *

"Why do you keep checking your phone?" Bo asked, tilting her head as she looked at Kenzi. They'd been watching TV on the couch for over an hour, barely saying anything to each other besides 'pass the popcorn' or 'stop stealing my beer, Kenzi.'

Kenzi shrugged, tucking her phone back into the top of her bra so she'd feel it if it vibrated with a new message. "No reason."

"Waiting on a guy?"

"Something like that."

"Ooh, who?" Bo set down the bowl of popcorn between them and shifted on the couch so she was facing Kenzi. "Is he hot?"

"I don't want to talk about it right now," Kenzi replied, reaching for the popcorn. Bo reached out and smacked her hand away, prompting a growl from Kenzi.

"Come on! We always talk about boys," Bo pouted. "Don't make me use my succubus juju on you."

"_Ugh_, I don't want to make out with you," she teased back, grabbing a handful of popcorn as Bo grinned. "Come on, seriously, I don't want to talk about it."

"Are you still mad at me teasing you about Dyson?"

At the mention of his name, she felt her face flush and she caught her breath, trying to control her breathing. "No."

"Yes, you are. Look, I'm sorry, I just don't see him being into you."

"Yeah, because you think he only belongs to _you_," Kenzi muttered under her breath.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Do you think _I_ like him?"

Kenzi looked over to see a confused expression on Bo's face. "You…you don't?"

"Oh my god, Kenz, me and _Dyson_? Yeah, like that would ever happen." Bo rolled her eyes and leaned to the side, against the back of the couch. "Not in a million years."

"Um…" Somehow, she was actually at a loss for words. The amount of times Bo and Dyson had hooked up in the past was too large a number to count, not to mention the whole 'Dyson giving up his love to save Bo's life' even that had happened a couple of years earlier. "Seriously?"

"Wow, you must have really damaged something the other day if you think we'd ever be an item." Bo laughed, shaking her head. "Hey, if you think he's into you, then by all means, go for it. I just don't see that going anywhere."

Kenzi bit the inside of her cheek, resisting the urge to spill what had happened earlier that afternoon. As she opened her mouth, her shirt vibrated and she jumped, grabbing for her phone that was going off. She grinned as she saw the caller ID and leapt off the couch, running for the spare room off the living room. As she slammed the door shut she answered with a breathless "Hello?"

"Hello back," Dyson's deep voice rumbled through the earphone. Kenzi shivered and sat down on the floor, crossing her legs.

"You're done faster than I thought."

"That's actually why I'm calling," Dyson replied, and Kenzi felt her heart sink into her stomach. "I'm going to be stuck at work for a while, looking like all night, actually. So I wanted to ask if I could take you out on a proper date on Saturday."

"But it's only Wednesday." She could hear the poutiness in her voice but didn't care. "Are we not going to see each other until then?"

"I certainly hope so, but you know how crazy things can get, so I just want to make a date now while I have Saturday open."

"Yeah, of course. I'm free." She clenched her free hand into a fist, stretching out her fingers a moment later, trying to breathe normally. "I hope I'll see you before though."

"I might have to kill someone to make that happen," he replied. "Maybe I can just shoot the bad guy so we get done earlier."

"Don't get into too much trouble!"

"Hey, did you get to talk to Bo yet?"

"Kind of. She didn't believe that we could ever be together, though. Why?" Kenzi raised an eyebrow; something seemed strange in his tone.

"Nothing. I was just wondering."

"Okay. Uh…well, I guess call me if you get done early enough to come over or something."

"Definitely. Have a good night, Kenz."

"You too, Dyson." She hung up the phone and stared down at the screen for a moment, thinking back over the past few days, and what Bo had said earlier. Something seemed…_off_, but she couldn't place what it was. After a moment she dialed another number, hoping they would pick up.

"Is everything okay?"

Of _course_ he would answer like that. "Hey, Hale," she greeted. "Yeah, everything's fine."

"Good, Dyson would have my head if anything ever happened to you."

"What do you mean?"

She heard Hale inhale sharply. "Oh, uh, nothing. Anyway, what's up?"

"I just… Well, this is kind of awkward, but… I wanted to ask you something." She was struggling to find the right words, and she picked at a thread in her skirt. "You know… I was wondering… why we never worked out."

"What do you mean, _we_?"

"You know, the whole flirty thing we've had going on?"

"Uh, since when?"

"Since…we first met?" _What the hell is going on? Why was everyone acting so differently?_

"Sorry, Kenz, there's a bro code that says you don't go after your bro's crush, and, well, let's just say I _really_ don't want to piss off a werewolf."

She stared at a spot on the carpet, trying to process Hale's brush-off. "Okay. I need to go. Thanks."

"Are you sure everything's okay? I thought you knew Dyson was totally into you. You're all he ever talks about, hasn't Bo mentioned anything?"

"I've gotta go. Talk to you later, Hale." She hung up the phone and tossed it onto the carpet, shaking her head. "Okay," she said aloud, her voice echoing in the otherwise empty room. "Let's run through this. Bo thinks it's crazy you could ever be with Dyson, but denied being into him, even though they've been sleeping together on and off for years. Hale just told you that Dyson's been into you since forever, but as of last week, he never said more than three words to you unless he had to, since you and _Hale_ have been flirting off and on for years. And the only reason this is happening is—" She stopped talking, having reached the end of her train of thought. "Why _is_ this happening? Have _I_ always liked Dyson? Did Dyson just suddenly decide I was hotter than Bo? I mean, that's _obvious_, but—"

"Kenz, come on, I wanna order a pizza and I need toppings input," Bo hollered from the other room. Kenzi jumped up, grabbing her phone to tuck in her waistband.

"Coming!" She reached up to rub her temples for a moment. "We'll figure this out later, self," she lectured aloud, heading for the door.

"Where did that go? I swear I kept it locked up…" Trick kept muttering to himself as he searched the large cabinet mounted on the wall, carefully moving various vials and jars aside, searching for something in particular. Usually the rainbow liquid caught his eye, but it seemed to be missing. "Maybe I put it in another cabinet? No, this is where I keep the flammables and other—"

His train of thought was interrupted by the phone ringing in the corner of the room, and he sighed and stepped off the stool, heading for the table. He picked up the phone on the third ring, wondering who on Earth would be calling him so late.

"Trick?"

"Hale? What's wrong?"

"Have you noticed anything…weird going on lately?"

Trick reached up to scratch the back of his neck. "Not that I can think of, out of the ordinary anyway. What's going on?"

Hale sighed, the sound of his breath echoing through the phone line. "I just had a weird conversation with Kenzi, and I thought you might know if something was going on."

"What kind of weird?"

"The kind where she thinks she and I are flirting with each other, and she doesn't know that Dyson has wanted her since forever."

Trick laughed, shaking his head as he leaned against the side of the desk. "What are you talking about, Hale? You and Kenzi have had that sort of dynamic since as long as I've known you two together."

"_What_?!"

"And Dyson and Bo are together, unless they're off again for the moment, which wouldn't surprise me. Did you have too much to drink or something?"

"Me and _Kenzi_? That'd never happen," Hale denied, slightly huffy. "I'd never do that to Dyson."

"Look, I'll talk to Kenzi, but I'd suggest getting some sleep. I've got to go. I'll talk to you later?"

"Fine. Night, Trick."

"Good night, Hale." He hung up the phone and crossed his arms over his chest, lost in thought. If Kenzi had gotten a hold of—no, that was impossible, he kept it locked up, and she didn't have the key. Unless… "Dammit, Kenzi," he swore aloud, stalking towards the stairs up to the bar. Once there, he reached underneath the counter and felt for the spare ring of keys he kept there. He pulled it away from the wood and inspected the keys, discovering that the spare to his downstairs cabinet was indeed missing. He swore again and grabbed his coat from behind the bar, heading for the door.

Someone knocked on the door and Kenzi leapt up, grabbing the cash on the table to pay for the pizza. Bo was caught up in the cheesy romantic TV movie they'd found by flipping channels, so she went to the door and swung it open to reveal Trick standing there, arms crossed, looking angry.

"Hey, Trick," Kenzi said, backing up a couple steps. He followed her inside, glaring at her with that parental glare he'd perfected after thousands of years.

"Hello there, Kenzi. May I talk to you in private for a moment?"

"Is that the pizza?" Bo called out from the couch, finally tearing her attention away from the TV long enough to glance behind her. "Oh, hey, Trick!"

"Good evening, Bo," he replied. "I just dropped by to talk to Kenzi about something. How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks. Okay, I'll keep an ear out for the pizza," she said, waving them away. Kenzi swallowed a dry lump that was building up in her throat and followed Trick to the side room, watching him lean against a chair sitting at a small desk as she closed the door behind them.

"So…what's up, Trickster?" Kenzi asked, leaning against the door, her hand on the doorknob in case she needed to make a hasty exit.

"I'm going to give you a chance to come clean before I accuse you of anything," he replied, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know what you're talking about—"

"I got an interesting call from Hale earlier, and I'm willing to bet you know what we talked about. Care to elaborate on a backstory?"

Kenzi shook her head. "I'm not psychic, how would I know what you guys talked about?"

"Kenzi, I noticed something was missing from a cabinet in my basement. Any idea what it could be?"

She shrugged, keeping her gaze level with Trick's. "Nope, no idea. I was in the bar earlier, but I left with Dyson."

"Ah, Dyson. What's happening there?"

"What do you mean?" She was prepared to wait out this line of questioning as long as she needed to; she was a great liar, thanks to her years of conning people.

"One chance, Kenzi. Come clean now and I can help you."

"I seriously don't know what you're talking about," she denied, shrugging again. She let go of the door handle and leaned with her full weight against the door, giving him a small smile.

"Are you and Dyson…" Trick hesitated for a moment, as though trying to find the right words.

"Friends? Of course we are."

"I was going to say 'hooking up,' if I got the phrasing right."

Kenzi laughed. "You're just an old man at heart, Trick."

"Stop mocking me and answer the question."

"Look, maybe Dyson is interested in me, and maybe I think he's cute. But nothing has happened." _Technically_ that was the truth, if she was careful how she phrased it…

"Did you take _anything_ from my place lately? Anything at all, it doesn't matter how small."

"Well, it kind of _does_—"

Trick held up a hand to stop her. "Not in the mood, Kenzi. If you say you didn't take anything, then I have to believe you. But if I find out you're lying, there _will_ be consequences. Don't say I didn't warn you. I have a lot of potions and not all of them are safe for human consumption."

"Oooh, okay, I've been warned," she teased, throwing up her hands in mock surrender. "I'll let you know if someone sprouts wings or starts speaking in tongues, but that's almost a weekly occurrence around here, you know? And why do you assume _I_ was the one who took something?"

"Because I _know_ you," he replied, a small smirk crossing his face. "I'm going home now, but remember my warning."

"Okay," she said, smiling. "Warning received. Have a good night!"

He shook his head and crossed the room, opening the door. He glanced back up at her as though expecting a last-second admission, but she remained smiling, refusing to give up anything. After a momentary stand-off, he opened the door and exited, leaving her in the doorway, breathing a quick sigh of relief.

* * *

Waiting around for a specific time to happen was the _worst_. _Thing_. _Ever_.

Kenzi sat down in a corner booth at the Dal, dressed in what she hoped was one of her sexier outfits. She'd dug through the entirety of her closet until she found a low-cut dark red tank-top, which she'd paired with a knee-length black pencil skirt and her favorite pair of high-heeled boots that just reached her knees, showing the smallest bit of skin as she sat down, letting the skirt ride up a few inches. A simple silver necklace and matching earrings completed the outfit, and she'd decided to go with minimal makeup, having spent enough time on perfecting her cat-eyes with new eyeliner. She looked good, and she knew it.

Dyson had managed to find some spare time to meet her Friday morning for coffee at the station, but other than a quick make-out session in his car afterwards, they hadn't had any time to get together. He was on a new case and his supervisor was making him put all his efforts towards it, which meant he couldn't find any time to get away from the station. She understood, but was trying not to pout too much, which unfortunately she was bad at, as Bo had told her Friday night to stop whining and clean the dishes already.

She glanced up from the table to see Trick staring at her from the counter, and she waved at him, watching him turn away with a roll of his eyes. A few minutes later Dyson strode through the door, wearing his usual jeans and a button-down deep blue shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his eyes flashing with a hint of yellow as he locked gazes with her. Kenzi stood up and smoothed out her skirt, watching him approach.

"Hey, you," he greeted, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. She smiled and reached out to take his hand, squeezing it in hers.

"I was thinking we could go somewhere else to eat?" she said, nodding towards the bar. "Far too many people in here for my taste."

"Yeah, of course. Did you have a place in mind?"

"Not really."

"Should I cook us a meal at my place?" he suggested, his voice low in her ear. She smiled and nodded.

"I think I could deal with that."

Once again, they barely made it inside Dyson's apartment before they were locked in each other's arms, his shirt already unbuttoned, her lips against his, fighting for dominance. She knew she wasn't going to win, and soon enough he was pushing her down onto the bed, leaning over her as she pushed his shirt down over his arms. The heat of his skin beneath her hands was almost too much but she took a deep breath, staring up into his eyes, which had turned bright yellow.

"What are you doing to me?" Dyson half-growled, lowering himself towards her, his muscles straining as she ran her fingers along his forearms.

"Whatever it is, I'll try not to stop," she sighed, shifting her body up enough to kiss him again, darting her tongue out over his lower lip. He nipped at her lip and she giggled, moving her hands to his back, massaging the tight muscles just above the waist of his jeans.

"That outfit looks uncomfortable," he said with a smirk, sitting up slightly so that his arms were free to move. His hands found the zipper on the side of her skirt and started dragging it down, revealing the pale skin of her hip as she squirmed against the sheets.

"Not as uncomfortable as those jeans, wolf-man," she replied, reaching for the button on his pants. A second later they were unbuttoned and unzipped, hanging loosely around his waist. She traced the lines of his abdomen, lightly stroking his hip bones, watching him shiver from her touch.

"_Much_ better, lass," he drawled. His rolled the hem of Kenzi's skirt up between his fingers and tugged firmly enough until the fabric slid down from around her hips, gliding over her legs until he pulled it off and dropped it unceremoniously onto the floor. She instinctively pulled her knees up toward her chest, feeling exposed, but he quickly tucked his hands underneath her thighs and pulled her legs back down, dropping his head to kiss along her left inner thigh. The noise she made was something of a cross between a moan and a Russian expletive, and she felt her toes curl as Dyson swept his tongue over her skin, dangerously close to the thin cloth of her panties that were quickly feeling like a prison.

"Dyson—"

"I know," he said, his voice thick with lust. "I'm just warming you up, my sweet." To punctuate, he hooked a finger in the waistband and yanked the fabric down to around her thighs, his other hand pressed against her abdomen to keep her from wiggling around too much. "Unless you'd like me to stop?"

"_Never_," was her quick reply. She ran her fingers through his hair and gripped a handful, tugging him upwards. He obliged and kissed a path across her hipbone towards her chest, dipping into the plunging neckline of her shirt. Finally their lips were together again and she bit his lower lip, relishing the way he pushed their hips together, his jeans having fallen to just above his knees.

"Are you sure about this?" Dyson whispered against her lips.

"I've never been more positive about anything," Kenzi whispered back, kissing him again.

Kenzi's eyes fluttered open as the smell of freshly-made waffles permeated her senses. She blinked a few times and reached up to rub her eyes, groaning as the light from the window reflected off the walls.

"Oh god, why is it so early?" she complained aloud, trying to angle her body to see the clock on the bedside table. To her surprise, it wasn't there. She frowned and sat up, glancing around the room, slowly taking in what a disaster zone it now was—clothes strewn everywhere, the lamp and clock on the floor a few feet away from the table, Dyson's dresser oddly angled as it had apparently been shoved a foot further down the wall.

"Good to see ya finally up, lass," Dyson drawled as he strode into the bedroom wearing only jeans, unbuttoned and hanging slightly open. In his hands was a breakfast tray containing juice, waffles, syrup, and butter, along with silverware.

"What time is it?" Kenzi moaned, flopping back down on the bed. A second later she grabbed at the sheets to cover herself, realizing she was entirely naked. She felt her face grow hot with embarrassment as Dyson set the tray on the other side of the bed, sitting down next to it.

"Two in the afternoon," he replied with a chuckle. "I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up."

"Yeah, sorry, I usually sleep in late, but this is…well, weird."

"We _were_ up almost all night, not much of a surprise."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess we were." Kenzi scrunched up her face in thought. "Hey, Dyson, why is the dresser crooked?"

He glanced back over his shoulder. "That was somewhere around three a.m. when we decided to see if we could have sex on top of it. Which was a success, might I add."

"Oh. Okay, then."

"Are you okay?" He stood up and walked around to her side of the bed, sitting beside her so he could gently rest a hand on her arm. "If you want to forget this ever happened, we can. I don't want to lose you as a friend, Kenzi. Having you in my life is more important than anything else."

"God, wolf-man, I didn't mean to have you pouring your heart out! I was just disoriented!" she exclaimed, shaking her head.

"Sorry." He actually looked a little sheepish, and she smiled. He was just so damned _adorable_.

"So, waffles?"

"Yes. Syrup or butter?"

"Both, _duh_."

"My mistake." He leaned over her and reached across the bed, gently tugging the tray closer to them. "I forget how much you love your processed sugar."

"Oh, don't get me started on _your_ vices, D-man," she retaliated as she grabbed the plate piled high with waffles. He just smiled and handed her the large bottle of syrup, content to watch her struggle to pour syrup while keeping the sheet close to her chest. If it occasionally slipped down too far, he didn't mind.

* * *

"_Kenzi…you've gotta know how I feel about you by now."_

_She swallowed roughly, wondering if anyone else was going to have the swell timing of interrupting them. This was a moment she'd thought about since they met, but never did she think it would ever happen. "I do, it's just—I'm _human_, you know, and everyone says—"_

"_I don't care what everyone says, I _like_ you, Kenz. I have for a long time. I can't bring myself to deny it any longer. Do you think you could give me a chance? Just one, to prove myself?"_

"_I want to, Hale, but—" She stopped as soon as she saw the hurt look cross his face. "It just won't work, and I think we both know it. Can't we just go back to flirting, like we always have?"_

_Hale shook his head, idly picking at a thread on his shirt cuff. "I can't do that, Kenzi. Please. Just give me one chance."_

_She couldn't deny the spark of attraction between them; it'd always been there, and had only intensified over the years. "Well…I guess. I don't want to ruin our friendship though."_

"_I promise." Hale's face lit up and she smiled in spite of the nervous butterflies in her stomach._

Kenzi rolled over, her eyes fluttering open, smiling to herself as Hale's face faded from her dream-addled memory. He always wore that crooked hat in her dreams, the one that made her want to tilt it the other way just to watch him hastily adjust it as he tried not to blush.

"Hey."

Dyson was smiling at her, his eyes half-open, obviously having just woken up. "Hey," she said quietly, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. Why was Dyson—oh. Yeah. She wasn't in her bed; she'd stayed the night at his place. Then why was she dreaming about _Hale_?

"Last night was amazing," he said quietly, yawning as he moved a hand up to scratch his chest. "I really needed that after working all day. Thanks, babe."

"Babe?" He'd never called her that before. That was usually what he called _Bo_; Kenzi had heard him say it enough times over the years, especially in the mornings after he'd stayed over. A hazy memory of the two of them explaining that it was a joke, insisting that they both hated pet names, began to replay in her mind and she frowned.

"Hmm?" Dyson rubbed his eyes, staring at her a moment later. "Wait…Kenzi?"

"Were you expecting someone else?"

"I—I don't—I mean, no, I'm just—" He sat up, shaking his head. "I must have been dreaming or something. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." It _wasn't_, because something had started to nag at the corner of her mind over the past couple of days. She carefully rolled out of bed and started gathering her clothes, suddenly feeling the need to be alone at her own place.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just remembered I told someone I'd meet them for lunch today, and I need to shower and change."

"You can shower _here_, you know. I can get you nice and clean," Dyson said with a subtle hint of a growl in his voice as he sat up. The sheets betrayed the coolness he was trying to portray.

"I appreciate the offer, wolfie, but I could use a shower with my _own_ shampoo. I'll see you later, though?"

"Yeah," he replied through another yawn, and she smiled, walking over to his side of the bed. She leaned down and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, stepping back to get dressed as he stayed in bed. He rolled onto his stomach and snuggled up against his pillow. "Come back to bed. It's still warm."

"I'll call you later." Kenzi rolled her eyes and finished buttoning her jeans, grabbing her heels from underneath the edge of the bed. Dyson mumbled another protest but was already half-asleep, and she took the opportunity to sneak out of the apartment.

A quiet knock on the door caught Trick's attention and he looked up from the book he was reading. He hadn't been expecting company, so opening the door to see Kenzi standing there, looking upset, was certainly a surprise.

"I need to talk to you, Trickster," she said, pushing her way through the door to go over and sit at his desk. He sighed and closed the door behind them, walking over to stand in front of her.

"What's wrong, Kenzi?"

"So, don't get mad, but I took something of yours a few weeks ago, and I think something's wrong," she said, averting her gaze as though expecting the typical "foolish human" lecture. Instead, Trick reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to look up at him, tears in her eyes.

"Tell me what happened."

Kenzi was used to being in trouble with Trick. Being shouted as, that was normal. Stern-sounding lectures, of course, those were routine by now.

But bringing him to complete silence? _That_ was an accomplishment.

"I'd really appreciate you saying _anything_ at this point, Trick," Kenzi said quietly, watching him pace across the carpet.

He stopped to look up at her, shaking his head. "I'm trying to think of what to say. I apologize if I'm taking too much time to figure out a solution to your problem."

"I said I was sorry, I don't know what else you want me to say."

"You stole from me, _lied_ about it, and got yourself into such a mess that I can't even comprehend how to fix it. What do you want to hear from me?"

"That you _can_ fix it!" She wasn't going to cry—she _wasn't_. "You always know the answer."

"Well, I think this is one of those times where honesty is the only option. You need to tell Dyson what you did. I think you should talk to Hale and Bo as well, but Dyson is the most important in this situation. You've created a parallel _universe_, Kenzi, that isn't something that can just…_go away_ if you wish hard enough."

"Then how come you aren't affected?" she asked, confused.

"That potion that you drank only affects those with whom you have an emotional bond. I'm not saying you and I _don't_ have a bond, but certainly we don't have feelings for each other _in that way_, and besides, I'm immune from a lot of magic. There are a few benefits to being the Blood Lord," Trick explained with a sigh.

"So…I need to talk to Dyson."

"Yes. And I recommend doing it soon, before things get…messier."

"How much messier can they get?"

Trick placed a hand on her knee, looking up at her with a serious gleam in his eyes. "I don't think we want to find out."

Kenzi stood outside Dyson's door, hand raised to the worn wood, hesitating. She'd texted him earlier saying she wanted to talk, so she knew the door was unlocked, but something about just walking in felt _weird_, knowing that none of the past few weeks had been real.

But…they _had_ been real. The feelings, the passion, how safe she felt in his arms in the middle of the night; those weren't illusions, but she didn't understand how they _could_ exist in their _normal _reality, where Dyson and Bo were together, and she and Hale enjoyed flirting at every opportunity.

"Kenzi?"

She dropped her hand as the door opened, revealing a shirtless Dyson standing in the entryway, a glass of water in his other hand as he leaned on the doorknob. At least he was wearing pants, she noted. "Hey, D-man," she stuttered, taking a step back.

"I could hear your heartbeat from inside, you know. Hard to sneak up on a wolf," he joked, lifting his hand off the doorknob so that he could hold it out towards her. She debated briefly whether she should take it or not, and decided to interlace her fingers with his, following him inside. He pushed the door shut behind them with his foot and led her towards the bedroom, setting his glass of water on a table as they passed it. Kenzi shook her head and stepped to the side of the hallway, leaning against the wall.

"Can't even wait until the bedroom?" Dyson murmured, leaning down to nibble at her earlobe. She squirmed under his touch and ducked down and away, moving towards the living room. "Oh, are we playing today?"

"No, Dyson, just—can I talk to you? For real." She made her way to the couch and flopped down, wishing she'd had the time to take a shower. Talking to Trick had taken too long, and she still smelled like sex, not to mention she could feel his wolf energy rolling just underneath Dyson's skin as he sat down next to her.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this serious," he commented, raising an eyebrow. "Is everything okay?"

"Not really. I…I need to tell you something." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Okay, here I go. It's important. I don't want you to get mad at me—"

"I'm getting mad because we're not in bed," Dyson replied, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smile.

"Okay, I'll get to the point." Kenzi took another deep breath. "This…thing between us. This fling, I guess, I don't know what I should call it—"

"Mm, what about it?" he said quietly, leaning down to nuzzle her neck. She couldn't bring herself to push him away again, breathing in his freshly-showered scent mixed with his wolf.

"Dyson… We're not real."

He chuckled against her skin, causing her heart to beat a little faster at the tickle of his lips against her throat. "Of course we're real. We're sitting here, aren't we?"

"I don't mean_ real_ real, like, we don't exist. I mean—I mean that you don't really have these feelings for me, and I don't have them for you," she babbled, trying to get out what her mind was trying to process. The words weren't coming easily, but she couldn't back out now.

Dyson leaned back, and she noticed his eyes had a slight yellow glint to them. "What are you talking about?"

"A few weeks ago, when you came over and found me on the floor—I'd stolen some weird potion from Trick, and it _did_ something, and we're in some sort of alternate reality or something, I don't really understand, but you're supposed to be with _Bo_ and I'm supposed to be with _Hale_, and we're not together. We never were. This is all…_fake_, Dyson. I never meant—"

"Wait a minute." He stood up, eyes fixed on hers. "You _tricked_ me? What are you talking about? All the things we've done…the things we've shared…they're not _real_?"

"Well, not exactly—" She leapt up from the couch, trying to catch his hand, but he easily stepped across the room, avoiding her. "Dyson, please, let me explain—"

"Yes, _please_ _explain_, Kenzi, why you're telling me how I don't _really love you_!" His eyes were glowing yellow, his fists clenched at his sides as he glared at her. "If this is your idea of a _joke_—"

"It's not a joke." She was quiet now, defeated. Trying to process his declaration, unable to wrap her mind around the situation, she wanted to cry but was determined not to. "I never meant to hurt you."

"Then why _are _you." It was a statement, not a question. A sharp pain hit her chest and she wanted him to wrap his arms around her, kiss the top of her head, hold her tightly. At this point, she wasn't sure that was ever going to happen again.

"I needed to tell you the truth. You've been thinking about Bo, haven't you?"

Dyson looked away angrily, unable to look her in the eye any longer. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I think…I think things are going back to normal, Dyson. You and I…we're not _normal_. Are you remembering?"

"What do you _mean_, remembering?"

"Remembering being with Bo. Times you had together…you know…" She didn't want to say any more because it hurt to remember seeing the two of them together, laughing, kissing, seeing his obvious love for Bo, not her.

"I've been having dreams, but I thought—no, it doesn't matter. I'm with _you_, Kenzi." The yellow faded from his eyes as the anger subsided, replaced with pain. He looked at her again, an indescribable look of sadness on his face. "I don't understand why you're doing this."

"Because we're not supposed to be together," she said quietly, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them away angrily. "You were never in love with me. You just _thought_ you were. It was…just magic. _Pretend_." The words hurt as she said them, cutting her tongue, but she kept going. "We can't be together."

"No." Dyson shook his head and crossed the carpet, standing in front of her. His arms were suddenly wrapped around her, holding her tightly, and she could feel his heart beating rapidly, the warmth of his body enveloping her. "You can't convince me this isn't real," he whispered, his fingers softly stroking her lower back. "Everything we've shared—it _has_ to have been _real_."

Kenzi wanted to take it all back, to say it wasn't true, but she couldn't bring herself to hurt him, to lead him on. She remembered how much pain he was in after the Norn took his love for Bo, but this… this seemed _worse_. To see him so vulnerable, it was killing her.

"Say something," he said quietly, a tremble in his voice. "Don't give up on me. On _us_."

"I'm sorry," she finally whispered.

"Don't be sorry, we can fix this."

"I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you before," she continued, beginning to shake. She felt his arms loosen around her and a few tears rolled down her cheeks. "I'm sorry I screwed everything up. I'm so sorry, Dyson, I'm sorry…"

He let go of her and stepped away, and she shivered, suddenly cold from the lack of his body heat. "Please leave," he said, gesturing towards the door.

"Dyson—"

"_Leave_!" he growled, clenching his hand into a fist. She could feel the air shift as he struggled to control his wolf from escaping, and immediately moved closer to the door.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again, hand on the doorknob. A roar escaped his lips and she ran out the door, hearing a howl echo behind her as she fled down the hallway.

* * *

They say time is supposed to heal all wounds. But what they never say is that time takes a lot longer than normally expected.

It wasn't that Dyson was _avoiding_ Kenzi; it was as though a switch had been flipped back to its original position, and he was simply acting as if there had been nothing between them. Only she and Trick seemed to remember what had happened two months earlier, and it broke her heart a little more every time Dyson would smile at her, or crack a joke that reminded her of something they used to laugh about in bed.

The first week after she'd told him the truth was the strangest. She'd purposefully avoided him for a few days, but after finally screwing up the courage to talk to him, he'd seemingly forgotten their conversation, as well as their entire romantic relationship, and asked if she was feeling all right. After stuttering out a typical avoidance-type Kenzi response, he'd laughed and left to go to work, but not before she caught him giving Bo a _look_, the kind that implied they'd be meeting up after his shift.

Hale pulled Kenzi aside before following after him, asking to talk to her later that night. Their later talk turned into Hale asking her out, and as much as she wanted to say yes, she turned him down. It was horrible seeing him look so dejected, but she knew it wouldn't be fair to lead him on, especially since her heart was still longing for Dyson.

Things had pretty much gotten awkward between everyone since then, because it was _obvious_ that Dyson and Bo were hooking up again, and no one could take much more of Hale's moping. Trick was trying to stay out of it, but after a couple of months, he'd had enough.

"Kenzi, can I talk to you for a second?"

She spun around on the barstool and smiled at Trick, beer in hand. "What up, Trickster?"

"In private, please." He gestured to the storeroom and she shrugged, setting her beer down on the counter. She swung her legs around and hopped to her feet, following behind him as the sounds of drunken laughter and clacking of pool table cues quieted behind them.

Once inside, he closed the door and turned to frown at her. "How are you doing?" he asked, moving over to a crate of wine to carefully sit on top.

Kenzi shrugged again, reaching up to flip a few strands of hair over her shoulder. "I'm fine. I'm not as drunk as I'd like to be, but—"

"You know what I mean. How are you doing about the whole…situation?" he finally said, struggling to find a neutral word.

"I'm fine."

"You don't have to lie to me, Kenzi."

Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them back, trying to ignore the lone tear that had worked its way to the corner of her eye, threatening to slide down her cheek. "I'm not lying."

"Do you really think you can get away with acting like nothing is wrong? You know how old I am. I've been with enough women to recognize what pain looks like."

"What am I supposed to say?" she said quietly, angrily. "I miss him."

"I know."

"And there's nothing I can do, because it was all just some stupid spell that meant nothing to anyone besides me. Because _I_ screwed up. _Again_. What else is new, right?"

Trick sighed and pushed himself away from the wine crate, reaching out to her. She fell to her knees and bit back a strangled sob as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Not everything is lost forever," he said, holding her as she struggled not to openly cry. "These things have a way of working out, you know. Just look at all you've been through already. It's not just luck keeping you alive, my dear. The fates are watching out for you."

"The _fates_?" Kenzi laughed, which came out as mostly a garbled cry. "I know nonsense when I hear it. You don't have to try to make me feel better, you're not obligated to."

"Of course I'm not, but I'm here for my friends. And Kenzi, believe it or not, we _are_ friends."

Hearing him say that caused a little warm feeling of gratefulness to bloom in her chest. "Thank you," she whispered, leaning against his chest a little more securely.

"I wouldn't worry too much about this whole ordeal. I have a feelings things are going to get a little easier soon," he soothed, rubbing her shoulder.

Dyson shot up in bed, chest heaving, and he reached up to touch his shoulder, a phantom pain lingering in the tender flesh. He'd just had an incredibly vivid dream about…no, that _couldn't_ be right. He shook his head and reached up with both hands to rub his eyes, determined to believe it was just a dream. A blinking light caught his eye and he picked his phone up from the bedside table, turning on the screen, scowling when light as bright as the sun filled his vision. After letting the haze clear, he saw that it was his calendar app warning him that he had plans later that day.

_Mimosas 10 (Bring flowers)_

"Why would I schedule _mimosas_?" he growled, tossing the phone onto the sheets that were wadded up at his side. His shoulder was still burning and a thread of his dream tugged at the corner of his memory, her beautiful face flashing before his eyes. With a sideways glance he confirmed it was still too early to get up (four in the morning wasn't the best hour for _anyone_ to be up, wolf or not) and he flopped back against his pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

* * *

Kenzi had no idea why she had felt compelled to keep her plans with a non-existent boyfriend, but her phone had beeped at her the night before with a reminder. She figured she could at least get a free drink out of the deal by acting like she'd been stood up, hoping the waiter would take pity on her. The breakfast crew at this place _was_ awfully cute, and there was a brunette man behind the bar that looked promising, with just the right amount of scruff, maybe a little shorter than she'd prefer, but manageable—

"_Stop_ that," she chided herself quietly, sipping her peach mimosa. She cast her eyes down to the lace tabletop and ran her finger down the glass stem, biding her time until a waiter would inevitably come over to ask if she was all right, when she could then lay on the dumped sob story.

"Is this seat taken?"

A snappy comeback died on her lips as she looked up to see Dyson standing behind the chair, his slender fingers gripping the wooden back. "Yeah," she said, feeling lame as she watched him pull the chair away from the table so he could sit down. He was wearing his usual attire of jeans and a pressed long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. The dark green of the fabric set off his eyes as he looked at her from across the table. A small smile rolled across his lips.

"How are you?"

"I'm great. You?"

"Been better." He was watching her, she knew, but she couldn't figure out why. Or why he was even _there_, since she'd nearly forgotten about the date herself.

"You don't say."

"I'd say there's a _lot_ I don't say," he replied, that smile still on his lips.

Kenzi raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. "Way to lose me there, wolfie. Say what now?"

"Kenzi, those things you told me about… the relationship we had, remember that? When I thought you were making it up?"

_This_ _isn't going to be a fun morning_. "Vaguely. I was probably drunk or something, remember? Who knows."

"I know it was real. I know _now_, at least."

Her heart sped up a little and she swallowed a small lump in her throat. "Come on, D-man, you know that's ridiculous. Like we would ever be together."

"Look, last night I had this dream, but I could tell it wasn't _just_ a dream. I've been subject to enough supernatural voodoo that I can tell when something is just a dream or if it really happened."

"What _are_ you talking about?" Kenzi picked up her glass and quickly drained the rest of her mimosa, wishing the glass was fuller than it was. Stupid waiter hadn't brought her a refill yet.

"Please stop pretending." Dyson's voice caught as he reached across the table to take her other hand in both of his, gently running his fingers along her palm. "I need to know what happened. I'm ready to listen now."

Despite her brain screaming to just get up and leave, she let herself enjoy the sensation of his hands on her own. "There's nothing to tell, Dyson. Nothing happened between us."

"You do remember that I can hear your heartbeat, right? I can tell when you're lying."

She winced and he let go of her hand, leaning back in the chair as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Right," she said through an exhale. "Sorta forgot about the superpowers. Again."

"I remember being angry, but can't remember exactly what I was angry _about_. And then there were a few other things that have been coming back, but…" He trailed off and Kenzi smirked—his cheeks were slightly pink, and she could take a guess as to what he'd been remembering. "Anyway," he continued, finding his thoughts again, "I just wanted to hear the whole story. _Again_, I suppose, since I wouldn't listen before."

Kenzi blinked back a couple of tears and her smirk faded. "Alright," she agreed. "It's a long story though."

"That's okay; I still want to hear it." Once again he reached over the table, catching her arm to pull her a little closer. "Although I get the feeling that it's far from over," he added, his eyes creasing with a smile.

~The End~


End file.
